


Care & Keeping

by bearfeathers



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Bonding, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4197945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearfeathers/pseuds/bearfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin falls ill and Harry is called away on business, it's up to Eggsy and Roxy to make sure their resident wizard is looked after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Two Week Decree

**Author's Note:**

> Some things to mention:  
> (*) James Spencer (Original Lancelot) is alive in this fic and has assumed the codename "Mordred." I'm not really gonna explain how he survived. Mostly because I don't want to. I'm in denial. It's Phil Coulson all over again. He's just alive okay lol. \o/   
> (*) HARRY'S ALIVE, JAMES IS ALIVE, EVERYONE'S ALIVE. (Except Chester because wow fuck that guy amirite.)  
> (*) James is Roxy's biological uncle, though due to their relationship, she refers to Martin (Percival) as her uncle as well.  
> (*) Some references in this fic WILL come from my own [Home Is Wherever I'm With You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3830767) as well as [I've Lost My Heart To a Man with a Smoking Gun](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3812251) by [lywinis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis). It's not necessary to read either, but may be helpful.

There are certain sights which Eggsy has grown used to in his time at Kingsman, one of which is—unfortunately—the sight of his fellow Knights pacing outside the medical wing’s doors like caged tigers. In this case, however, he’s not certain for the precise reason. No one is currently out on assignment and given that it’s Harry who’s doing the waiting, Eggsy’s mind jumps to some very unpleasant possibilities.

“Harry,” he calls.

The man looks up as Eggsy and Roxy approach, schooling his features into something more contained. Once he’d recovered following his near-death in Kentucky, Harry had adapted well to the role of Arthur, though he insists that Eggsy not address him by his codename unless they’re in a formal setting. Eggsy doesn’t believe this to be one.

“What’s gone on?” Eggsy asks, nodding towards the medical wing’s doors.

“I’m not certain,” Harry admits. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I made my way down to Control for a meeting with Merlin and found him collapsed on the floor beside his work station.”

Eggsy feels a sharp spike of panic, not simply by the news, but the way in which it was delivered. Harry seems calm enough, but having spent as much time with him as he has, Eggsy can see that Harry is rattled. He can hardly be blamed for that.

It wasn’t until after V-Day, after Harry had been found to be alive and had been brought home, that Eggsy had come to understand what the two men meant to one another. Harry had struggled to come to terms with what he’d been made to do in that church and Merlin had been with him for every step of the way towards recovery. More than that, Merlin had been what held them _all_ together in the ensuing mess, remaining calm and in control when they needed it most. But now, just as when Harry had been struck down by Valentine’s bullet, Eggsy is given a grim reminder that his mentors are just as human as the rest of them.

“Is he alright? Was he conscious?” Roxy asks, mirroring Eggsy’s concern.

“He’d been feeling under the weather recently but I hadn’t thought it was this serious. We haven’t seen much of one another this past week,” Harry says, fingers reaching to massage his left temple. Eggsy doesn’t miss the action, watching the way Harry’s fingers gently knead the scar tissue beside his eye. “He wasn’t conscious when I arrived but I was able to bring him ‘round easily enough. I escorted him here not ten minutes ago.”

“Does anyone else know?” Roxy presses.

“Not yet,” Harry says.

Eggsy turns his head to catch Roxy’s gaze when Harry falls silent, his eyes on the clouded glass doors separating him from his partner. They’ve come to understand that Merlin is something of a workhorse—often keeping hours that most would balk at—so the simple fact that he’s here means this is no case of the sniffles. All the same, Eggsy feels a strong need to comfort Harry in some way; it’s clear he’s not taking this well.

“He’ll be alright,” Eggsy proclaims, bumping elbows with his mentor. “You know Merlin, he’ll probably be complaining that you interrupted his work by the time you get in there.”

Harry’s mouth twitches in the barest of smiles. Apparently he’s not convinced. Before Eggsy can think to say anything else, the doors part and Morgana emerges. When she motions for him to come in, Harry lingers only long enough to tell them he’d give them an update when he could before disappearing within.

* * *

By the time Eggsy gets that update, Merlin is no longer in medical. Only he’s not in Control either. Frankly, Eggsy’s not sure where else to look. He’s so used to finding Merlin glued to his seat in Control or Merlin finding _him_ that it’s never been a problem before. He feels a bit foolish as he wanders aimlessly around the medical wing until he arrives at Morgana’s office. The door is open, but he knocks all the same.

“Harry’s taken him home,” Morgana says, eyes on her screen as she continues typing.

“He didn’t say nothing about it,” Eggsy replies with a frown.

“I’m hardly surprised,” Morgana proclaims, looking at Eggsy over the rims of her glasses. “Come in.”

Morgana is an older woman, having been with Kingsman before any of their current Knights were ever recruited. Even sitting at her desk, looking over the medical reports coming in from their other branches, there is a matronly air of grace and respect about her. She’s stern when she needs to be, but Eggsy has seen her mother every one of them from himself and Roxy right up to Harry. Even Gawain—that great mountain of a man—may as well be one of her children for the way she looks after him. Eggsy had liked her from the moment Merlin had first introduced them to her and if that’s changed in the time since, it’s only because he finds he’s come to like her even more.

“What’s wrong with Merlin?” Eggsy asks, flipping the vacant chair in front of her desk and straddling it. “Sounded serious from what Harry said.”

“It _is_ serious,” Morgana says. She clucks her tongue, an unhappy frown forming on her face. “It could have been a simple case of bronchitis but Merlin’s done as he always does and now he’s got himself pneumonia on top of it.”

“He’ll get better, though,” Eggsy says.

“With proper rest, yes,” Morgana agrees. “Not that he’s particularly happy about it. I’ve put him off work for a minimum of two weeks.”

Eggsy whistles low at the declaration. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Merlin take two _days_ off.”

“Which is how he got himself into this mess in the first place,” Morgana huffs in agitation. This turns into a slow, heavy sigh of the longsuffering sort as she regards Eggsy with a thoughtful look. “With everything that’s gone on since V-Day, it was only a matter of time. Much as I wish it hadn’t happened like this, the time off will do him good. ”

When Eggsy thinks back, he can’t really pick any point in time where Merlin had truly taken a break. After V-Day, with his brief stint as Arthur, then helping Harry through his recovery and since then working alongside him to rebuild Kingsman, his responsibilities must have been enormous. The more Eggsy considers it, the more he realizes that Merlin had really never taken time to do anything other than… well… be Merlin. He feels a bit guilty at that, but apparently this behavior isn’t anything new based on what Morgana has told him.

“It’s all been a bit much,” Eggsy agrees.

Morgana offers him a noncommittal hum in response. As the tapping of the keys continues, Eggsy wonders if perhaps the conversation has come to a close. Until Morgana abruptly stops. Her fingers pause over the keys of her computer, eyes fixated on one point on the monitor. After a very long few moments, she draws her hands away and folds them in her lap. Leaning back in her seat, she abandons her files in favor of giving Eggsy her full attention.

“Merlin will be fine, Eggsy,” she says slowly. “You needn’t worry. I’ve been watching over him for thirty years and this is hardly the worst that’s happened.”

“Yeah, alright, but with the way Harry looked—“

Morgana waves him off. “He’s hardly on his deathbed, regardless of Harry’s behavior.”

“You’re sure about that?” Eggsy presses with raised eyebrows.

“There’s a conference Harry has to attend that calls together all the branch leaders. As Arthur, he can’t miss it, but it will mean being away from Merlin for the week,” Morgana explains, pushing the jar of sweets on her desks towards Eggsy encouragingly. “Because he can’t take care of Merlin himself, he’s all tied up in knots.”

“I get that he’d want to be around for that himself, but it’s not like we won’t look after him while he’s gone,” Eggsy says with a shrug.

“I’m counting on it.”

Eggsy twists in his seat at the sound of Harry’s voice and finds him standing in the doorway. Despite the deep circles beneath his eyes, he looks marginally more at ease compared to when Eggsy had seen him last. Morgana makes a displeased noise as he enters the room.

“And how much sleep did you get last night, Harry?” she asks pointedly.

“Well…” Harry says, staring down at his shoes and clearing his throat.

“I thought so,” Morgana drawls.

“I wanted to be sure,” Harry says. “I wondered if he might have difficulty breathing in the night and wanted to be awake in the event that he did.”

“He’ll be fine,” Morgana assures him as she rises from her seat. “I drained the fluid around his lungs and set him on a course of antibiotics and intravenous fluids. Just let it do its work. How was he when you left?”

“Sleeping,” Harry replies. “Would you—“

“I have my bag packed and a car waiting at the door,” Morgana interjects, walking from around her desk.

“Thank you, Mags,” Harry sighs, his shoulders drooping.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” Morgana says, patting his arm on her way out the door. “And do try to nap on your flight at least?”

Eggsy offers her a little wave as she leaves, popping one of the sweets from her desk in his mouth as he does so. Harry stands by the door, eyes on her retreating back. Even after she’s gone, silence hangs between them, though Eggsy’s sure Harry had come here looking for him, otherwise he would’ve left with Morgana.

“A word, Eggsy?” Harry says at last, looking to him expectantly.

“Yeah, alright,” Eggsy says.

Rising from his seat, he replaces the chair as he’d found it and follows Harry out of Morgana’s office. They’re out of the medical wing entirely before Harry deigns to say anything. Their pace is slow, less leisurely and more deliberate as they walk through the halls side by side.

“Morgana has told you that I’m to be away for the duration of the week,” he declares.

“Some conference, she said,” Eggsy affirms with a nod. “All the branch leaders and such.”

“Yes. Quite unavoidable,” Harry says, managing to look thoroughly put-out by the fact. “Although Morgana will be checking in on Merlin daily, I wondered if I might ask you to do the same. I understand it’s not the usual assignment for you, but I would feel better if I knew you were there to make sure he wasn’t straining himself and to update me on his condition.”

“What about your condition?” Eggsy prods, biting down on the candy in his mouth.

Harry looks to him with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting for clarification. Eggsy crunches on the sweet, swallowing and licking his lips before answering.

“I’m not the only one who’s noticed you’re winding yourself up,” he says.

Harry frowns at that, but doesn’t deny it. “I don’t care to be away from him when he’s like this.”

He hesitates, as though trying to decide if he should speak what’s on his mind. Harry is a traditional Englishman, raised to keep a stiff upper lip and bottle up any particularly strong emotions. His recovery in conjunction with the ability to enjoy his relationship with Merlin openly had softened some of that, Eggsy thinks. Harry has always been warm and inviting, but he seems far more willing to share thoughts he might normally keep private when it’s only himself and Eggsy.

“We have always done our best to care for one another. Even periods during which we barely spoke for years outside of work, there was a certain understanding that whatever quarrel we’d had or whatever disagreement there was between us, when it came to matters of health and well-being all of that was put aside. After I returned home, Merlin was… Well, without him I don’t believe I would have ever been able to return to Kingsman, much less as Arthur. He is my partner in every sense of the word. And so to leave him now when I ought to be caring for him myself does not sit well with me.”

“Merlin ain’t keeping score, Harry,” Eggsy remarks. “’s not like he thinks you owe him one or anything.”

“I’m quite aware,” Harry says with a patient smile. “It does not, however, negate the fact that I should be with him.”

“But you can’t,” Eggsy reminds him. “So we’ll do it for you.”

Harry’s smile widens a fraction, and though he doesn’t say anything, Eggsy can sense the gratitude that rolls off him in waves. He reaches over, laying a hand on Eggsy’s shoulder and squeezing fondly, bringing a smile to Eggsy’s face in the process. After a moment, Harry reaches into his pocket and produces a plain white business card with an address handwritten in a tidy scrawl in the center. On the opposite side, there is a simple, unassuming silver key stuck to the card with an adhesive.

“Our address,” he says.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to your house,” Eggsy notes.

“You’re _living_ in my house.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes. “I mean your new one.”

“Well, now is as good a time as any,” Harry says, still looking amused at his own joke. “I’ll apologize in advance for being unable to give you a tour.”

“Can I bring JB?” Eggsy inquires.

“I believe Merlin would be affronted if you didn’t,” Harry chuckles.

The rest of their conversation is smooth and amiable. Eggsy can’t help but notice how Harry seems to have come away from it appearing just a tad lighter. He understands, of course, how Harry feels about all this, but there’s really nothing for it. As he sees Harry off in the car parked out front, Eggsy assures him again that Merlin will be in good hands.

After all, they take care of their own.


	2. Roxy Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy's not so sure they're going about this the right way. Luckily, Roxy's got the situation under control.

Eggsy isn’t sure what he’d been expecting Harry and Merlin’s home to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. It looks like something out of a painting with its white fence and hanging plants and enormous shrubs. He could almost laugh at the absurd cliché of butterflies fluttering over the flowers because it’s all a bit ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s nothing at all like Harry’s previous home and, remembering that this had been Merlin’s home first, Eggsy wonders if that’s simply the difference between the two men.

“It looks like a Norman Rockwell painting,” Roxy proclaims, voicing his thoughts. “You’re sure the address is right?”

Eggsy holds up the card. “Yeah, but it still feels…”

“Not at all like where you pictured Merlin would live?” Roxy finishes.

“I always assumed they just plugged him in at night,” Eggsy jokes.

Roxy shakes her head with a small smile as she leads the way, the dogs trailing behind them. The gate creaks cheerily as they push through it and as they walk along the brick pathway, Eggsy is almost beginning to expect someone to come popping out of the bushes with a troop of woodland creatures and a musical number.

Any remaining doubt about having gone to the wrong address is cleared once Eggsy manages to unlock the front door. Couldn’t very well do that if they’d gone to the wrong place. Roxy creeps in just behind him through the open door and, once inside, Eggsy can begin to see more of Harry’s influence. There is an intriguing combination of classic and contemporary, style and comfort. It’s strange how his two mentors can have such differing styles and yet still manage to blend them so effortlessly together into one home. But then, that’s rather the same of the two of them in general.

“Merlin?” Eggsy calls in what is hardly more than a whisper.

Silence, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, is his answer. Though to be fair, he’d hardly made an effort.

“I’d assume he’s asleep,” Roxy proclaims.

“Yeah, just feels a bit… weird, you know. Going to their bedroom,” Eggsy answers as they move through the parlor and towards the stairs, JB and Perdita trotting obediently behind them. “I was kind of hoping to find him asleep on the sofa or something.”

“Feels a bit like walking into your parents’ room?” Roxy asks, a sly smile on her face.

He snorts and bumps elbows with her, but doesn’t deny it. It _is_ a bit like that. Harry and Merlin are very far from his parents—he’s got his mum, thanks—but there’s no denying the fact that they do fill some of the void left in the wake of his father’s death. And yes, perhaps he’s grown to think of them as something like family; though the same could be said of Kingsman in its entirety. For all that, however, it still leaves him feeling a bit odd to be walking up stairs which creak underfoot as they progress towards the master bedroom.

They remain quiet as they walk down the hall, not wanting to disturb Merlin from any needed sleep. The door to the bedroom is open and as they peer through, they find five sets of eyes peering back at them. Ah. Merlin’s dogs. Harry had warned him, of course, but they seem just as intent on letting their master sleep as Eggsy and Roxy do. The five dogs are all piled on top of the bed, surrounding Merlin protectively, apparently very much aware of his poor health.

Eggsy’s seen Merlin sleeping only once since they’ve known each other, and that hadn’t been sleeping so much as it had been the crash after an impressive caffeine binge. This time he’s in a proper bed—using something other than his desk for a pillow—chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. Each breath which… sounds wheezy to Eggsy’s ears. He reminds himself that Morgana had said Merlin would be fine, even as he inches into the room to get a better look.

Merlin certainly doesn’t _look_ fine. His face is a pallid, sickly color, making the dark stubble on his face stand out all the more, and his eyes are framed by deep, dark bruising. Standing there, watching him simply breathe, Eggsy finds himself tempted to shake the older man awake simply to make sure he’s not about to suddenly stop breathing in his sleep.

If Eggsy, Roxy and Perdita knew well enough to let Merlin sleep, JB seemed to have missed out on the memo. Eggsy barely has time to react before a small, tan blur launches itself at the bed. The dogs all startle, as does Merlin himself. Eggsy freezes as he watches Merlin blink himself awake, as though the wizard might not see them if they merely stand still. Merlin coughs as he tries to sit upright, appearing terribly groggy as the pug in his lap happily licks his face, his tail wiggling furiously.

“Hello, JB,” Merlin croaks, a smile coming to his face despite the roughness of his voice. He glances over at Eggsy and Roxy, squinting somewhat without his glasses. “Harry sent you?”

“Well, yeah, just to keep an eye on you while he’s gone,” Eggsy says with a shrug of his shoulder. “Sorry about JB.”

“It’s no trouble,” Merlin proclaims, clearing his throat and rubbing at his eyes as the five other dogs resume their positions around him. “I apologize for… this.”

“You saw me puking my guts out after I ate all that shrimp two months back,” Eggsy reminds him. “You’re not ruining your reputation with a cold.”

“Mm,” the older man mumbles, eyes sliding shut. He simply lies there for a time, scratching behind JB’s ears and breathing in that worrisome wheeze before he says, “I know Harry asked, but you don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“Merlin, we’re not here just because Harry asked, you know,” Roxy informs him. “We take care of our own.”

“Your uncle,” Merlin coughs, “is always on about that as well.”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“Well, it stands to reason since you seem very keen on taking care of everyone and not letting the rest of us return the favor,” Roxy points out, though not unkindly.

The stern look Merlin offers her in return is negated somewhat by the cough which rumbles up from his chest. Despite his best efforts to keep it sealed behind pressed lips, it slips out all the same, prompting JB to once again ply his face with kisses.

“It’s just for one week,” Roxy says. “I understand you’d likely prefer some privacy, but we won’t stay long. We’ll just be checking in on you once per day.”

 Merlin hesitates. “Just… don’t go out of your way.”

“We haven’t got anything better to do,” Eggsy says. “Besides, you look bloody fucking awful.”

“And sound it,” Roxy adds.

“Alright. You’ve made your point,” Merlin says, making it clear he’s tired of the argument. Or perhaps just tired in general.

Eggsy supposes he’s seen just about all of them ailing at least once since he’d joined Kingsman—hell, even Percy had caught that rather spectacular strain of the flu not so very long ago. But there’s something about seeing Merlin in particular in this situation that’s put him on edge.

“Since you’re awake, why don’t you let me make you some herbal tea?” Roxy suggests. “It should help with that sore throat.”

Merlin hesitates to answer, and for a moment, Eggsy thinks the older man is just going to tell them to leave. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s just plain stubbornness, but whatever it is, it seems to take considerable effort for Merlin to swallow it.

“I would appreciate it, thank you,” he says instead. He casts his weary gaze over the two young Knights in a pale imitation of the stern looks they’re used to receiving when he’s about to inquire as to whether they’ve been taking care of themselves. “Have either of you eaten lunch? You can help yourself to anything in the pantry. Harry made sure it was stocked before he left.”

Roxy offers him a patient smile. “Why don’t I just make something for the three of us?”

Eggsy shuffles uncertainly into the hallway after her. “You, uh… you want help, then?”

Lancelot pulls him aside, casting a glance towards Merlin, who continues to slowly pat JB’s head. “Why don’t you stay and keep him company?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“Rox, I don’t think he _wants_ company,” Eggsy points out.

She shakes her head. “He’s just being stubborn. You know, you’re not the only one Harry talked to before he left.”

Eggsy’s mouth forms a round ‘o’ of surprise, pulling a soft smile to her features. Yes, Harry had spoken to her as well, but she’d done her homework. Her uncles had plenty of insight when it came to Merlin and since Harry had asked her to look after their wizard, she intended to be well equipped. Of course, James had been overflowing with advice—nearly giddy at the chance to tell her tales of their youth at Kingsman—but thankfully Martin had been, well, less flowery in his words. All this meant that she knew Merlin’s efforts to shoo them away were out of a need to protect his sense of self-sufficiency and not because he didn’t want them there. It was difficult, Martin had told her, for him to accept that there were times he needed to be minded himself, rather than minding all of them.

“So… I guess he told you a bit more than he told me,” Eggsy says, managing to look thoroughly put out by the idea.

“Oh, don’t even start,” Roxy says, rolling her eyes. “I just asked my uncles. Now, stop stalling and go keep him company. I won’t be long.”

Eggsy watches her as she walks back down the hall, Perdita trotting obediently at her heels, before he turns back towards the room. It still feels odd, if you ask him, being here. It’s not that he doesn’t feel welcome, exactly, but rather that this space seems to be one that he has no right to occupy. This is Harry and Merlin’s. This is their home, the place where they can remove themselves from Kingsman. It’s the place where they keep all their clothes and their cutlery and their knick-knacks and their keepsakes. This is where they’re not Arthur and Merlin, but just Harry and… wait, does Merlin even have a real name? Well, in any case, this is a private place.

Especially here, standing in the master bedroom, he finds himself sweating like a sinner in church. Not more-so than when his eyes finish making a sweep of the room, only to land on Merlin who has, apparently, been watching him all this while.

“…what?” he says defensively, hands shoved deep in his pockets and shoulders bunched.

“You look as uncomfortable as James on that one occasion where I sent him into china doll shop for a mission,” Merlin replies.

“China dolls?” Eggsy echoes.

“Yes. The one thing too tacky even for James Spencer,” Merlin says. “Although, I think it may have been more of a phobia.”

He chuckles at the memory, which might have done something to help Eggsy relax had it not then transformed into a horrible, hacking cough. JB jumps off the wizard’s lap as he curls in on himself with the force of it, prompting Eggsy to start towards him. Only he has no earthly idea what to do. He stands at the side of the bed, hands hovering awkwardly. Should he touch him? Thump his back or something? Would that even _do_ anything? It’s not like when Daisy’s had a cold or even his mum. There’s a boundary here that doesn’t exist with them and he’s not certain exactly where its perimeters lie. Deciding that he can’t very well stand here and do nothing, he settles for retrieving a glass of water and patting the older man’s back in what he hopes is a comforting manner.

Merlin makes no effort to shrug him off, but that may be simply because he’s too preoccupied with catching his breath. The dogs watch Eggsy intently, as though they expect him to somehow fix this, and he can’t help but feel unfairly judged. By _dogs_.

Eventually the fit passes—much to Eggsy’s relief—and Merlin sags against the pillows propping him up, pulling deep, needy breaths and holding up a hand to let Eggsy know he’s alright.  allowing Merlin to accept the glass of water Eggsy had held for him with a rough-sounding word of thanks. He sips gingerly as he rests back against the many pillows keeping him upright, looking as though that had taken any remaining energy out of him. Eggsy pulls a chair over from the desk by the window, setting himself up beside the bed and watching Merlin carefully. Any discomfort he’d felt in regards to their location were superseded by the heavy weight of concern; as fine as Merlin proclaimed to be, Eggsy wasn’t convinced.

Merlin gets one look at him and makes a soft, unhappy noise. “Now you’re beginning to look like Harry,” he wheezes.

“Now I’m beginning to see why Harry was worried,” Eggsy declares, making way as JB jumps in his lap to give Merlin’s dogs the run of the mill. “Christ, how did it get this bad? Didn’t you see Morgana or anything?”

“I had thought to see Morgana yesterday… it just happened that I wound up in the infirmary in… a different manner than I’d planned,” Merlin admits.

It’s plain to see he isn’t exactly keen to talk about it. And why would he be? Eggsy can think of fewer things more embarrassing for him than passing out in his office and needing to be carried to the medical wing by his partner. All due to—if he’d understood Morgana correctly—the fact that Merlin hadn’t taken care of himself when it was a more manageable cold. For someone who spends so much of his time worrying after all of them to take care of themselves, it has to be decidedly uncomfortable to find himself in this situation for wont of taking his own advice. So when the older man pointedly changes the subject, Eggsy doesn’t stop him.

“Have I ever told you about JB?” Merlin asks.

“Eh… no?” Eggsy ventures.

“I meant where I found him,” Merlin clarifies.

“I didn’t know you found him,” Eggsy admits.

Merlin hums in the affirmative, a pleased little smile coming to his face. “I find and care for all the pups that are eventually chosen by Kingsman candidates.”

Eggsy looks down at the pug taking up his lap. Well, that certainly explains JB’s great need to say hello to Merlin regardless of his training or Eggsy’s wishes.

“Where’d you find JB?” Eggsy asks, his curiosity piqued.

“In a takeaway container,” Merlin answers.

“Well, he does love food,” Eggsy says, pinching one of the little dog’s rolls.

“Actually, I think he’d crawled in there to get away from the rain,” Merlin corrects him. “Perhaps someone placed him in there. I don’t suppose I’ll ever know. All I do know is that there were some very large gulls with some rather sharp beaks pecking at that container and I don’t know what might have happened if I hadn’t spotted him there.”

Merlin pauses, sipping at the glass of water again and clearing his throat, wincing slightly when he does so.

“You thought he was small when you chose him, but when I found him he could fit in the palm of my hand. Barely had his eyes open at that age,” Merlin reflects. He pauses to drawa handful of slow, measured breaths.  “I had my doubts about whether or not he’d survive after I brought him home with me, but he’s quite a remarkable dog. He was a stubborn little thing. If I’m being honest, I was glad you chose him, though I know it wasn’t intentional. He fought for everything he had; much as you have.”

Eggsy’s fingers have been absently stroking JB’s fur as he listens. There’s a fondness in Merlin’s voice when he speaks of not just the pug but of Eggsy himself that’s… different. Merlin often exudes an air of exasperated fondness for each of them, but here and now comes the sense that this is one of those occasions where Eggsy ought to pay attention.

Though Merlin has served as his mentor, has trained him and been his handler on any number of missions, Eggsy can’t say he knows very much about the man. The time he spends with him is markedly different from the time he spends with Harry. Merlin is largely still a mystery to him. He doesn’t even know his real name. At this point, he may even know more about James and Martin—though that’s partly due to the fact that James simply can’t resist the theatrics of telling a good story.

“Interesting that the stray picked the stray,” Eggsy interprets.

“Oh, no. They’re all strays,” Merlin says. He pauses thoughtfully. “Well, rescues, in any case.”

“You haven’t got some fancy breeder?” Eggsy pries doubtfully. “It’s Kingsman. Aren’t the dogs, like… purebred and the like?”

“Not a one,” Merlin says, seemingly rather proud of the fact. “Not that the previous Arthur had any idea. He rarely actually came down to Control himself, so he never noticed that instead of obtaining the dogs from breeders, I had created and maintained a network of connections with various shelters throughout the country.”

“…so Perdi, too?” Eggsy asks.

“Perdi, too,” Merlin echoes.

“What about Perdi?” Roxy asks, appearing at the door with a tray in her hands.

Eggsy quickly rises from his seat to help her and together they pour tea for the three of them. Merlin proceeds to tell them Perdita’s story and by the time the tea is gone, he’s nodded off once again, the short visit having worn him out entirely. Eggsy takes care of cleaning up while Roxy leaves a covered plate on the bedside table with a note—something for him to eat once he wakes again. They leave Merlin in the care of his five furry companions, knowing Morgana will be stopping by later in the evening to check in.

It had not been at all like Eggsy had thought, but then, he’s not sure what he’d expected from this little visit. Merlin had been surprisingly candid and he wonders if that’s part of the reason why Harry had asked them to come here. As he and Roxy climb into their car, he decides that he may not know much about Merlin now, but he’ll see to it that that’s changed by the end of the week.


End file.
